


Rincewind's Last Stand

by HelenC



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 20:40:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16333085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelenC/pseuds/HelenC
Summary: Divergent aftermath of The Last Continent if Rincewind's traumatic experiences suddenly caught up with him.Contains spoilers for many of the booksPonderWind if you wish but nothing explicitMy first ever Fanfic so please be gentle.I do not own Discworld or any of its characters





	1. Chapter 1

The wizards spent a long time simply watching the storm. Even the wizards from Ankh-Morpork for whom rain was nothing new, couldn't help but be impressed by the scale and the magnitude of this storm; after all it did have thousands of years’ worth of rain to disgorge. It wasn't long however before the wizards retreated back inside Bugarup University. It was amazing how rapidly the novelty of rain wore off, even if you’d never seen any before. Bugarup's wizards, and soon enough most of its citizens, quickly concluded that while this new rain stuff was obviously useful and lots of fun for a short length of time, it was best experienced inside, somewhere nice and cosy, with a good roof and maybe some board games. They were all soon ensconced in the great hall where someone had lit a fire and both universities were stood around it swapping chitchat and gently steaming.

Mrs. Whitlow helped the Librarian to his feet and led him inside Bugarup University out of the rain. Archchancellor Rincewind went over to his supine cousin and nudged him with a sopping sandal. "You alright mate?" he asked. There was no response, not so much as a groan. Concerned, Bill stooped down and gently lifted the soot stained wizard in his arms; even with all the rain his robes had absorbed the man was still very light.  
Ponder was still watching the storm from just inside the door as the Archchancellor carried his burden through the garden and into the university. "What's the matter with Rincewind, sir?" he asked.

Although Ponder had only met Rincewind very briefly, he decided he liked the man. It seemed to him that the inept wizard was something of a kindred spirit, another rational thinker desperately trying to keep a hold on his sanity in the midst of an insane world. So he followed the Archchancellor down a corridor, up a flight of stairs and along several more corridors. 

"I dunno. He was on top of the tower when it was struck by, what did you blokes call it? Lightning?" Ponder nodded. "The monkey seemed to come out of the wreckage unscathed but your Rincewind was unconscious." 

Ponder winced at the word "monkey."

"If I could give you a word of advice, sir." he said "if you like your anatomy exactly the way it is, don't use the M word around The Librarian. He can get a bit... touchy about it."  
Bill paused in his stride briefly and smiled "I'll keep that in mind, mate."

Eventually they came to a door, which Ponder opened and then stepped aside so the Archchancellor could enter. Inside was a fairly large bedroom with a flimsy looking wardrobe at one end, a couple of bookcases full of books and a double four-poster bed with a strange kind of fine netting hanging from the posts. "It's to keep out the insects and creepy crawlies," said Bill catching Ponder's expression. He laid the unconscious Rincewind on the bed and felt for a pulse at his wrist. After a while he laid the hand gently on Rincewind's stomach and straightened up looking worried and distant.

"Is he going to be alright?" asked Ponder anxiously. Bill broke out of his reverie and tried to give the lad a reassuring smile. "No worries. We'll look after him."  
Methodically the Archchancellor examined the patient for broken bones and other injuries and, finding only a nasty gash across his forehead and superficial scratches on his hands and legs, went through another door into a small bathroom and came back carrying a box which he put down on the edge of the bed and a wooden bucket which he held out of the window for a while until it was full of water. Then, taking a washcloth from the bathroom he wet it from the bucket and carefully washed the soot, dirt and blood from Rincewind's face and hands. Next, he took a bandage out of the box and bound Rincewind's head.

Between them, they managed to take off his soaked robes and as they did so Bill caught a glimpse of the scars criss-crossing his back. "Strewth" he murmured. "What does Rincewind do at your University?" 

"He works in our library, sir."

"Ah, that explains it then, some of our books can tear a man's arm clean off!"

"Well, yes sir" Ponder conceded "However I don't think that's where he picked up all those scars. I get the impression that Rincewind leads an unintentionally adventurous life."  
Bill took a spare nightshirt out of the wardrobe and slipped it over Rincewind's head; he shot a puzzled look at Ponder. "How do you mean?"  
"Well sir, it seems that in the course of running away from things that mean him harm he gets involved and subsequently people expect him to help them; which usually results in him having to run away from different things that mean him harm."

They laid Rincewind, now clean and dry, back on the bed his head resting against the pillows. He lay there motionless and the fact that he hadn't so much as stirred once during their ministrations was beginning to worry the two wizards. Ponder was so concerned he placed his hand over Rincewind's mouth to check he was still breathing. He was, but the irregularity of his breathing caused Ponder to remove his hand quickly in alarm.  
"Is there nothing more we can do for him?" he asked plaintively. 

The Archchancellor shook his head. "I think we've done what we can for now. Simple rest is probably best, until his condition changes one way or the other. I will stay with him for a while if you want to go back downstairs, explain things to the others and get a bite to eat."  
Ponder was loath to leave if he could be of use, but as he gazed at the still form on the bed he realized the Archchancellor was right, all they could do now was wait and hope he came round on his own, so, reluctantly, he thanked him and disappeared down the corridor.  
When he had gone, Bill sighed and dropped heavily into a chair by the bed listening to the rain pelting itself against the roof and trying to digest the many strange events that had occurred over the past few hours.

After a long while, Rincewind stirred and gave a low groan. His whole body was screaming at him, he felt completely drained and at the moment thinking was proving as difficult as running through treacle. He could remember very little from the last few hours and what he could remember came through in dribs and drabs. At least he was lying down on something soft. He could just about make out the shape of a figure leaning over him and was vaguely aware that it was talking to him but in his exhausted state he couldn't for the life of him make out the words. The tone sounded comforting enough though.

There came a loud knock at the door, the kind of knock that indicated that it was simply for politeness' sake and whoever was outside was coming in regardless. The room was suddenly full of wizards, tailed by Ponder who looked rather flustered. "They insisted on visiting Archchancellor Rincewind," he said apologetically. The UU wizards gathered round the bed slightly awkwardly. Archchancellor Ridcully peered at Rincewind "Don't worry lad you'll soon be back on your feet in no time," he boomed, in a voice that brooked no argument. Rincewind finally focused on the faces in front of him and saw a lot of very familiar wizards staring down at him. "Please go away!" he intoned in a hoarse voice but with great conviction. Mustrum Ridcully, in the way of a certain type of school master everywhere, who couldn't stand malingerers, even if said malingerers were truly at death's door ‘if they'd just pull themselves together and show a bit of backbone’ muttered to himself "delirious, yes," and in a rather louder, and he thought, reassuring, voice said "nonsense young fellow! Some good food inside you and some decent exercise and you'll be right as rain." Archchancellor Rincewind frowned at this odd attitude to the obviously very infirm indeed but said nothing.

Somewhere in the back of Rincewind's befuddled mind thought processes were progressing thusly: I've been chased through dungeon dimensions, several war zones, and hell itself and do I get any sympathy? No, I get a bunch of arrogant wizards who couldn't tell their arse from their elbow telling me what to do. They probably only want me to get better so I can be sent on whatever dangerous, almost certainly suicidal mission they've cooked up for me in the meantime. 

It was just then that The Luggage trotted into the room to find out what had happened to its master. Rincewind stared in horror at the big chest on lots of little legs and the rest of his memories clunked into place with ferocious speed, his all too adventurous life playing rapidly over the movie screen of his mind.

And so it was that then and there his entire being suddenly decided it had had enough. Enough of being dragged from one end of the Disc to the other. Enough of being shot at, menaced, chased, dangled over heights and blown up. Enough of being used as a convenient carrier, guide or pawn in the schemes of others. It fought back.


	2. Chapter 2

With a terrible groan that sounded like it came from the tortured denizens of hell themselves his eyes swivelled upwards until only the whites were showing. His whole body started convulsing violently as octarine fire shot randomly from his fingertips, burning holes in the netting and sending scorch marks across the walls. The Luggage shot out the door as the wizards dived for cover behind furniture, even BU's Archchancellor ducked down beside the bed.

The Luggage could stand all sorts of magical attacks but it knew in its wood that its mere presence had somehow caused its master intense pain and items made of sapient pear wood were very protective of their masters, so it reasoned the best way to protect him was to stay out of sight, for now at least. Ponder crawled towards the wildly flailing figure on the bed cautiously, and tried to make reassuring and calming shushing noises to him. He tried to assure him that he was safe and that no one was going to harm him or more importantly send him anywhere.

When all his entreaties failed and in desperation he started singing; an old lullaby he suddenly remembered from when his mother sang it to him when he had nightmares as a child. He wasn't a great singer but it seemed to do the trick and slowly Rincewind calmed, and the magic died down. Wizards came nervously out from their hiding places looking shocked and in some cases slightly singed. Slowly, they pulled themselves together.

“Well done Mr Stibbons” said Ridcully. He looked down at the now still, unconscious Rincewind and shook his head in bewilderment “where the hell did that come from? I thought you said that Rincewind couldn’t perform even the most basic spell.” The others just stood there speechless, some tried to surreptitiously back out of the door in case any more bolts of magic were going to come flying their way. “Well...” Ridcully coughed uncertainly “you will keep us informed of any change in his condition?”

“Certainly Archchancellor” said Ponder.

“Jolly good, erm, I think we’re needed in the, erm, kitchens er, hope he gets better soon and all that.” At the fastest speed he could manage while still making it seem polite Ridcully and the other UU wizards left the room and shut the door quickly behind them, leaving Ponder and the BU Archchancellor alone again.

It would later be ascertained that as Rincewind had painted wizards back into the present from a time of raw, primeval magic that in the process the excess magic trapped in the rock from that before time was earthed through Rincewind's paintbrush and into him, and what with the empty space where magic should be that the Octavo spell had left, this abnormal phenomenon produced what might be called a magic transfusion; Rincewind however was far too high on beer and adrenaline at the time to notice this.

Ponder sat down on the bed and put his hand comfortingly on Rincewind’s arm. He gazed at the ashen face that now had a sheen of sweat on the brow and came to the awful realization that all those magical fire bolts would have been drawn from reserves of strength that Rincewind currently didn’t possess and he was weakening rapidly as a result. Bill dipped the cloth back into the bucket, wrung it out and mopped Rincewind’s forehead. As they carefully observed the sleeping figure Ponder told the Archchancellor what little he had learned about Rincewind’s many adventures. After he had finished they sat in silence for a time, deep in their own thoughts.

A quiet moan came from Rincewind and his eyes slowly flickered open searching fearfully round the unfamiliar room. “They’ve gone” Ponder said quickly “You’re safe.”

“Safe?” echoed Rincewind, his voice sounded hollow as if all the life had been drained out of it. He gave a small shake of the head “never safe. Never safe!” His eyes darted agitatedly, searching for the next danger, his mind wasn’t working properly; instinct was taking over. He tried to get out of bed, he had to run, had to get away. His legs could barely hold him upright never mind run, his addled brain hardly noticed. Without hesitation Ponder gathered the frightened man into his arms, Rincewind fought for a while until it seeped through to his panicking mind that the touch was gentle not painful and that he wasn’t being restrained but held tenderly in a hug. Ponder took whatever blows came, knowing that the man wasn’t really aware of his actions, and just held on, rocking slightly back and forth as though comforting a child “It’s alright, shhh, no-one’s going to hurt you, there’s nothing to run from, you need to rest. Rest.” Rincewind melted into Ponder's grasp, sobbing. Somewhere in a corner of his brain, he realized he was losing his mind and he cried out at the horror of it. In time Rincewind’s sobs subsided and his eyes fluttered closed again but continued to flit from side to side under his eyelids as if the terrors he ran from had simply migrated into his dreams. Ponder sighed, still holding the wiry wizard in his arms hoping his continued presence was providing him with at least some little comfort.

Archchancellor Bill Rincewind had tears in his eyes. “Strewth,” he said with feeling. He had heard stories of men going mad from the heat and the flies and the large variety of dangers in the outback; they generally didn’t survive for long. If Ponder was right Rincewind had not only survived much worse but up until this point had managed to do so with his sanity more or less intact; it was a wonder his mind hadn’t snapped long ago. "Are you alright to stay with him for a while? I'm going to go and get a doctor; I’d say he needs proper medical attention."

Ponder nodded sadly as the Archchancellor spared one last glance at the pale figure curled up in the young lad's lap and left with haste on his errand.

Moving slowly, so as not to wake him, Ponder manoeuvred Rincewind so he was lying back on the bed. He was freezing cold to the touch despite the heat outside, so Ponder crossed to the wardrobe where he found a sheet which, with a bit of work, he spread over the still form and tucked in at the edges, and a blanket which he pulled up to Rincewind's chin. Then knowing there really was nothing more he could do, he held Rincewind's unresponsive hand and waited.


	3. Chapter 3

Ponder waited a long time in the eerie silence punctuated only by Rincewind's ragged breathing. He tried talking to him but not knowing whether the sleeping figure could even hear him made him feel foolish for doing so, it was almost like talking to HEX. Eventually the groaning of floorboards outside alerted him to the return of Archchancellor Rincewind who brought a short individual in half moon glasses carrying a black leather bag in his wake. Without a word the doctor took a minute to examine the scene before him, put the bag down on the end of the bed and opened it withdrawing a stethoscope from inside. Ponder and the Archchancellor backed away and let the doctor get to work.

“He’s in good hands,” whispered Bill to Ponder, “Bruce is the best doctor in the whole bloody country”

The doctor listened carefully to Rincewind's chest, making a very valiant effort to keep his features calm. He took a thermometer out of his bag and put it into the patient's mouth. Then, drawing a small light emitting device from his pocket, gently thumbed one of Rincewind's eyes open and shined the light into it. He did the same with the other eye. He briefly placed a hand on the patient's forehead and thoroughly examined his body for signs of external or internal injury. Next he rolled up Rincewind's sleeve, placed a funny looking cuff around his upper arm, and pumped a strange bladder-like thing on the other end causing the cuff to swell up and a little gauge with numbers on it to move. The doctor put his stethoscope to the inside of Rincewind’s elbow and peered at the gauge while releasing the air out of the cuff. He then took the thermometer out of his patient’s mouth, looked at it and hastily scribbled a couple of things in a little notebook.

Ponder was impressed, Ankh-Morpork had only recently grasped the idea that making people better and treating them again in the future was a better financial game-plan than taking the patient’s money and, if the complaint was any more complicated than a cold, shaking their head sadly and giving their condolences to the next of kin. But then, he reasoned, if you lived in a land where practically everything was out to get you, you would have a seriously depleted population if you didn’t learn some medical skills.

The doctor straightened up looking grave. “Will he be alright, sir?” asked Ponder nervously. Bruce sucked thoughtfully on one arm of his glasses and gazed at his patient, taking in the gaunt face, his colour practically indistinguishable from the white pillows he rested on, and the rigid tension in his all too skinny body even while unconscious. He sighed and shook his head.

“This man has obviously been under a lot of stress for a very long time, the Archchancellor told me of some of events he has endured so I reckon that his mind thinks he is still in danger and so his body is responding accordingly. He has very high blood pressure, his heart is beating far too fast for someone who is unconscious and his breathing is erratic. I can sedate him but in his current condition that can only be a temporary measure, we need to convince him that he really is safe and needs to relax.” In the bed Rincewind tossed fitfully and whimpered quietly. The doctor glanced sadly at him “The human body is not designed for the amounts of pressure he has been subjected to; even if we can ease his terror I’m afraid his chances of surviving this are small. I will, of course, do all I can for him, I just think you should prepare yourselves for the worst.”

Bruce crossed back to his bag, and produced a small vial of liquid and a syringe. “This will simply put him into a state of deep sleep and hopefully give his body a chance to recover,” he explained as he stabbed the syringe through the top of the bottle and drew up the liquid inside. “I’m afraid I must ask you to hold him down; unavoidably this will hurt a bit and I don’t want to harm him if he struggles.” 

Without a word Bill pushed down firmly on the thin shoulders while Ponder immobilised his legs through the blanket. They nodded to the doctor to continue. Gently taking Rincewind’s arm, the doctor slid the needle into a vein and slowly pushed the plunger.

The response was immediate and electric. In the face of this new perceived assault Rincewind bucked and kicked against the restraining hands. There were no flashes of octarine firebolts, Ponder supposed he was by now too weak for magic, but he fought them with a strength borne of desperation and it was surprisingly difficult to keep him still. The doctor removed the syringe as quickly as he possibly could but he had to make sure all the medicine had been administered first. As he stepped back he motioned to the wizards to let go. Rincewind continued to fight for a while before a warm comforting darkness clouded his mind and he finally fell into the arms of a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

Ponder rearranged the bedclothes with a sigh. Although he no longer seemed to be tormented by monsters in his dreams, his face had only grown paler with dark rings around his closed eyes.

Now that he was safely unconscious and would feel nothing more the doctor removed the bandage around his head and inspected the wound; it wasn’t very deep but required stitches. The doctor worked with quick strokes then tied off and snapped the thread. Then he took a fresh dressing from his bag and rebandaged Rincewind’s head. He snapped his bag closed and faced the Archchancellor.

“He should sleep for several hours, when he wakes you should try to get him to eat something simple; broth for instance. I will come back to check on him tomorrow.” At a loss for any more advice he could give he patted Bill on the shoulder reassuringly, nodded to Ponder and, with a last glance at his patient, left to attend to other matters.


	4. Chapter 4

In fact, Rincewind slept round the clock twice and it wasn’t until early evening on the third day that he stirred. The doctor returned on the second day and, although he was surprised to find his patient still asleep, after listening to his heart again and noting a vast improvement he was happy to let him continue as it was obviously doing him a lot of good. Archchancellor Rincewind, the Librarian and Mrs Whitlow had taken it in turns to watch over him as Ponder had been convinced to get some sleep himself.

Ponder returned just as Rincewind gave a groan and his eyes flickered open. The young wizard was at his side in an instant. “Can you hear me Rincewind?”

The other man focussed on the keen face before him and a name struggled to surface in his very blurry memory “Ponder Stibbons” he said, his voice sounding thick and slightly slurred. Ponder smiled and nodded. Rincewind looked around him in confusion. His eyes alighted on the shape of an Ape on the other side of the bed looking concerned and a memory stirred of a room with hundreds of chained down books and a place where he felt at peace. However as he continued to try to reconstruct his memory he found that there were lots of huge gaps. For example his could remember people, including matching up names to faces if he really tried, and he could remember places he’d travelled to, forests and seas and watery fields with buffalo in them, but he couldn’t remember anything he’d actually done in those places apart from a vague sensation of running. Also he found there was a locked and barred door in his mind and somehow he knew that to open the door would mean catastrophe. Fleetingly he wondered if the two things were connected but dismissed the idea. He was suddenly aware that the young man was watching him carefully.

“Would you like something to eat?” asked Ponder.

Rincewind didn’t actually feel very hungry despite the fact that he also couldn’t recall when he had last had a decent meal but for some reason Ponder looked like he needed to feel useful so he said, “yes please, just something small will be fine” and watched Ponder’s retreating back with a puzzled expression.

He tried to ask the Librarian what had happened to make him wake up in a strange place feeling like death warmed up, but he found that he couldn’t concentrate on the answer. He’d catch some of the Ape’s explanation but halfway through his mind would wander off and he’d miss important chunks. Despite the holes in his memories he decided that this wasn’t like him at all; sure, he thought, sometimes he might drift off if he didn’t understand an explanation but that wasn’t the problem here. This was beginning to frighten him; if he couldn’t trust his own mind, well, where did that leave him?

Ponder came back balancing a bowl of vegetable broth and a glass of water on a tray and closed the door behind him with his foot. He put the water on the bedside table and the tray carefully on the floor at the end of the bed, turned to Rincewind and stopped short. The man had lost most of the colour he had regained in the past few days and was trembling with tears in his eyes. Ponder sat down quickly on the edge of the bed and took Rincewind’s hands in his. “What’s wrong?” he asked anxiously.

“I...I...” Rincewind stammered, unable to get the words out through his tears. To his surprise Ponder gathered him into a hug and, after the initial shock, he gratefully accepted it, letting himself cry into his shoulder. From what he currently remembered of other wizards, which was mostly from his long time as a student, they were not the hugging kind and had a distinctly sink or swim attitude to personal issues. He dimly recalled that Ponder was different, what little he’d seen of him impressed upon him the idea of a young man who was more engineer than wizard, a man who understood why things were the way they were. Maybe he understood people too.

After a while, Rincewind disentangled himself and took the hanky Ponder offered him. “I’m sorry about that,” he said wretchedly.

“Don’t be” replied Ponder “do you think you can tell me what happened?”

Rincewind took a deep breath “There are lots of things I can’t remember, much of what I have done in my life is now a mystery to me. I know I’ve travelled to lots of places but I don’t know why or what I did there. My mind feels like a piece of that cheese with all the holes in.” Ponder nodded sympathetically. “I can’t concentrate either, my mind keeps wandering” he continued and then stopped, his hands starting to tremble again. “Am I going mad? How would I know?” 

Ponder, who could see he was getting distressed again, started rubbing his back in soothing circles “shhh it’s alright, whatever’s happening to you we’ll help you through it.”

“Ook” agreed the Librarian placing a hairy hand on Rincewind’s arm.

“Do you think you could manage to eat something now?” asked Ponder. Rincewind nodded so Ponder retrieved the tray from the foot of the bed and helped him to eat as his hands were still trembling too much to hold the spoon without spilling most of it down his front. By the time he had finished it was clear he was tiring. As he settled back under the covers, he suddenly gripped Ponder’s hand in agitation. “Promise me you’ll take me home? Whatever happens, you’ll take me home?” he asked fervently.   
Ponder swallowed “I promise,” he said quietly. 

It was as if someone had flipped a switch; Rincewind relaxed instantly and was soon asleep. Ponder and the Librarian exchanged worried glances.


	5. Chapter 5

The rain had stopped by the time Rincewind was deemed well enough to get out of bed. The doctor was greatly impressed by his physical recovery; however, his mental state was still very precarious and there was still a long way to go. 

Ponder had taken over the bulk of the responsibility for looking after him: bringing him food or light reading material, calming his nightmares and simply being there for him if he wanted to talk. He never complained, and the other wizards got the feeling that he liked having someone to take care of; which was fine by them.

Often they were awakened by terrible screams and while they sympathised with Rincewind’s condition, wizards who didn’t get enough sleep were liable to get grouchy. Ponder understood this all too well so he put some soundproofing spells around Rincewind’s room and slept on the other side of the bed so he could easily comfort him if he had nightmares which, unfortunately for him, was most nights.

Rincewind in his turn had opened up more to Ponder as the two of them tried to ascertain how much of his memory he had lost. This turned out to be quite a lot, for instance his image of Ankh-Morpork was the one he knew when he was a student. He was in for one hell of a shock, mused Ponder.  
Attempts to restore his missing memories had been abandoned, since when they had tried Rincewind had felt like hundreds of tiny feet were battering on the door in his mind and he went to pieces, firing instinctive magic bolts until Ponder’s lullabies could lull him to sleep.

Now Rincewind was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a borrowed robe, carefully trying to see how much weight his legs could take having not used them for over two weeks. The doctor was at the other side of the room monitoring this stage closely. Gingerly he stood up and managed a couple of faltering steps before falling into Ponder’s arms. They repeated the exercise until Rincewind could make it halfway across the room. Then Ponder walked behind him, as, with the aid of a couple of canes, he made his way downstairs just as Archchancellor Ridcully walked in through the gate. Ridcully strode up behind him and clapped a hand on Rincewind’s frail shoulder. “Feeling better lad?” he boomed. Rincewind gave a strangled scream, jumped nearly a full metre in the air and fainted. Ponder came down the rest of the stairs at a rush and knelt by him. He scowled angrily up at the Archchancellor.

“I thought I’d explained this,” he said with forced patience “Rincewind is in a very sensitive mental state, so sneaking up behind him was not a very good idea!”

“I wasn’t sneaking,” complained the Archchancellor petulantly “I thought he’d heard me come in.”

“Well he hadn’t!” snapped Ponder, rapidly losing his usually very even temper. He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down. “With all due respect sir, if you want to be helpful go and get the wheelchair.” Ponder ignored him as he went away grumbling and turned his attention to Rincewind still lying on the floor. “Can you hear me?” he said quietly. Rincewind groaned and grabbed hold of Ponder’s arm. “It’s alright, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” Ponder helped him sit up as the Archchancellor returned pushing the wheelchair. Between them Ponder and the doctor settled Rincewind in the wheelchair and wheeled him outside into the fresh air and sunshine of the garden. 

“A boat is already being made ready to get us home,” Ponder told him, as he dropped onto a bench next to him, “it’ll drop us off at Nothingfjord and then it’s just a month or so ‘til we’re back in Ankh-Morpork.” Rincewind nodded but said nothing; he was idly watching some butterflies that were flitting around the flowers. Ponder thought this nugget of information would get more of a response but didn’t press the matter. Over the past couple of weeks, he had learnt much about the human mind and its reactions to stress. He tried his hardest not to make Rincewind into one of his projects, he really did care about him and would help him in any way he could, but his enquiring mind couldn’t help but notice things and try to make sense of them. So in the end he’d given in and begun writing a few notes when Rincewind was asleep. He consoled himself with the thought that perhaps by understanding what was happening to Rincewind he would be in a better position to help him.

Rincewind seemed disinclined to be drawn into conversation and so they sat in companionable silence for a while until Mrs Whitlow came out to tell them dinner was ready. Ponder thanked her and pushed Rincewind into the great hall for dinner.

Most of the wizards of either University had barely seen Rincewind since the episode with the fireballs and the hubbub died away as soon as he appeared. They had been told of his condition of course, but even the Unseen University wizards barely recognised the frail figure in the wheelchair. True, he had always been on the skinny side; in fact a rake was rotund compared to Rincewind, but the man before them seemed to be comprised almost entirely of skin and bone. Ponder had found that Rincewind never had much of an appetite and despite his best efforts he could only persuade him to eat very small portions. He hoped this would improve now he could be, relatively, up and about. 

Ponder pushed the chair to a space that had been left for them and started putting food on a couple of plates. The wizards resumed their conversations but not quite as loudly as they might have done.

Rincewind didn’t join in. He ate slowly, occasionally looking about him fearfully, sometimes whispering something in Ponder’s ear. He was currently unused to large groups of people and something deep inside him was telling him to run away and just keep running. With all his might, he overruled it. His rational mind knew that, for now at least, he was perfectly safe, and anyway he couldn’t run if he tried. Ponder was aware of this uneasiness and gently put his hand on Rincewind’s arm. “We can go if it’s too much too soon,” he whispered but Rincewind shook his head.

He quietly finished his meal and waited patiently while Ponder spoke to the other wizards about departure times and suchlike. Then the young wizard bid the others goodnight, wheeled Rincewind back to his room, helped him into his nightshirt and tucked him into bed.

“You did really well tonight,” he said, his hands fidgeting slightly “I wouldn’t have thought less of you if you had decided you wanted to leave early. Perhaps we should have taken things a little slower. I know big groups of wizards are hard to cope with at the best of times.”

Rincewind caught hold of his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m alright,” he said with a tired smile “Thank you.”

“We can leave next week,” Ponder informed him “we’ve got a fairly large cabin so the wheelchair will be no problem...” he looked down and tailed off, Rincewind was already fast asleep. He sighed, changed into his nightclothes and snuggled under the covers next to him.


	6. Chapter 6

Neilette visited the day before they were due to depart. Rincewind was again enjoying sitting in the peacefulness of BU’s garden and although as she approached she was alarmed at the wizard’s apparently sudden frailty, she was careful not to show it. They chatted for a while, well mostly she chatted, about future plans; she thought she might redevelop the old brewery. Rincewind listened attentively but didn’t offer any opinions of his own and in the end the conversation, such that it was, ran down rather awkwardly. She left him with a peck on the cheek and a promise that she’d be on the docks waving as the ship set sail.

She was, along with Darleen and Leticia. They joined the throng of people lining the jetty, which included practically the entire Bugarup City Watch most of whom had heard about Rincewind’s miraculous escape and hoped to catch a glimpse of him. They would be disappointed; knowing that the sudden stimulation of lots of cheering people would probably be too much for him Ponder had made sure that he was safely ensconced in his cabin before he knew the crowds would gather for their departure.

It took only a couple of weeks to get to Nothingfjord, and only a further week to get back to Ankh-Morpork. During the voyage Rincewind could sometimes been seen on the deck taking in the sea breezes, but not for too long as he still tired easily. He was getting slightly stronger and often propped himself up on the rails of the boat instead of simply sitting down but he still required the wheelchair, mostly in the evenings when he was flagging and couldn’t always trust his legs to keep him upright.

He generally kept to himself. He observed when lots of other people were on deck and carefully made sure that he asked Ponder to take him upstairs when he knew there wouldn’t be many people about. Despite his reassurances to Ponder after that first meal in the Great Hall, he was not keen on being among lots of other people. Ponder soon cottoned on to what he was doing but said nothing, understanding that he had to keep certain defence mechanisms and they could be much better worked on when they were back at Unseen University.

They could smell Ankh-Morpork before they could see it, the city producing a distinctive aroma all its own. To the wizards it smelled like home and made each of them long for their own beds in their own rooms and a return to a nice quiet routine of eating large dinners and snoozing the afternoon away in comfortable armchairs.

It was getting dark as the boat slipped gently into the quay and was securely moored. Wizards descended the gangplank on unsteady feet and congregated on the dock swaying slightly as they attempted to regain their land legs after so long at sea. A clacks had been sent from Nothingfjord to alert the University and more importantly the Patrician that the missing senior faculty members of UU were on their way home. No doubt, he would want a full report on where they had been for the last couple of months. Although Ridcully was not looking forward to having to give that report, he was happy to see that a couple of carriages had been laid on for them on the quayside including one with storage space for Rincewind’s wheelchair. Not for the first time the Archchancellor marvelled at Vetinari’s apparent powers of clairvoyance. The clacks had, by necessity, been short due to the lack of much money in the wizards’ pockets and there hadn’t been enough to explain Rincewind’s current condition. In fact, the message went something like Coming Home Stop Explain Later Stop; wizards tended not to habitually keep spare change about their person.

The faculty filed into the carriages as Ponder pushed Rincewind steadily down the gangplank and helped him into the larger carriage. As they made their way to the university, Rincewind gazed out of the window with an expression of wonder usually only found on the faces of young children. He remembered Ankh-Morpork from his student days; however, it seemed that much had changed since then. He saw dwarfs and trolls simply walking down the street not attacking one another, he even saw dwarves that seemed to be wearing make-up and chain mail skirts, he saw that the post office was up and running with people streaming in and out and he saw Watchmen, of any species he could name (and a couple he couldn’t) everywhere. The Watchmen he remembered were a handful of not very bright men led by a man who could usually hardly see straight. He obviously had a lot to learn about this new world into which he seemed to have stumbled.

The carriages pulled up outside the university and the wizards quickly departed to see what kind of mess the rest of the faculty had made of things without them and to find certain home comforts like a favourite pipe or a pair of slippers.

Ponder helped Rincewind into the wheelchair and instructed a porter who had come out to help, to push him inside. Ponder had volunteered to stay with Rincewind when he was settled back at UU and leave the running of the HEM to his students but Rincewind declined; it was unfair to keep the young man from the work he so loved. Besides, he wanted to be as independent as possible in the shortest space of time, and anyway Ponder would always be close at hand if he really needed him. He had a few nagging worries about the nightmares but he pushed them to one side. He knew that Ponder had also spent many sleepless nights in the past few weeks and among the new things he was learning about himself he found that he really didn’t like to feel a burden to others. Even so, Ponder stayed until the older wizard was asleep before making his way to the High Energy Magic building.

The Luggage made its own way back from the ship. It was feeling disconsolate at the current state of affairs, but all the while it knew that it was the biggest threat to its master’s safety it would stay out of sight. Nevertheless it felt distinctly unwanted.


	7. Chapter 7

They sent for Doughnut Jimmy the next day as this was too serious a case to be left to the doctors of Ankh-Morpork, and although he examined Rincewind thoroughly he couldn’t tell them much more than the doctor in XXXX and the only thing he could suggest was rest, which Ponder thought, wasn’t a very revelatory prescription.  
Ponder saw Rincewind at breakfast the morning after, without the wheelchair but with the canes tucked under the table. He sympathised with Rincewind’s desire not to be dependent on others and admired his determination to be mobile again as quickly as possible, but he worried that if Rincewind pushed himself too hard too fast, he’d only end up doing himself more harm than good.

He pushed his fears aside and sat down next to Rincewind with a warm smile. He noted the dark circles under his eyes and the rabbit-like nervousness that seemed to be his perpetual state now. Ponder tried to engage him in conversation and he did answer questions and even occasionally offered comments of his own, but he spoke almost in a whisper that Ponder had to strain to hear and mostly simply focussed on his scant breakfast.

When he’d finished he got up unsteadily. Ponder reached under the table, retrieved the sticks and handed them to him. Rincewind muttered a thank you to him and made his way slowly out of the Great Hall. Ponder sadly watched the hunched figure go, stymied by indecision. He could have gone after him, he could have convinced him to play board or card games with him, he could have gone and sat with him and chatted about everything and anything, but he knew that if he did that Rincewind would only be agreeing to do so because he thought that was what Ponder wanted, not because he wanted to do any of those things, and a part of him, though he wouldn’t admit it even to himself would, desperately, want Ponder to go away and leave him alone. 

Of course, Ponder knew that doing nothing was not a good idea either. The Rincewind he had known, however briefly, had definitely not seemed the type to even contemplate suicide; he feared death too much. But the man he had been looking after for the past month or so wasn’t really the same Rincewind as the one they had sent to the Counterweight Continent. He startled as the slightest noise, he always seemed on high alert as if he were just waiting for an attack and, due to some kind of protective amnesia, he didn’t know why he felt like this. Ponder mused with a sort of morbid curiosity how long he would last in a state like that before he thought about doing something...silly.  
Ponder compromised and resolved to give him some time by himself, then go, and check on him later.

It was mid-afternoon when Ponder found him, although with hindsight, he thought, it should have been an obvious place to look. He was sitting on a bench in the garden looking out on the flowers and listening to the birds. Ponder conspicuously announced his presence so as not to startle him and sat down on the other side of the bench. After a long pause Ponder said, “I’m sure you could be given a section of the garden to cultivate as you’d like, if it would help you to have something to do.” He watched Rincewind’s face carefully. 

“Can you promise me I’ll recover?”

The simple question was barely a whisper but it froze Ponder’s blood in his veins. He wanted so very badly to lie to him, to tell him that he’d be back to his old self in a couple of weeks, that it was all a fuss over nothing; as much to reassure himself as the slight figure beside him. He knew he couldn’t do that to him, but neither did he feel he could tell him the truth, because the truth was he didn’t know. He didn’t know if he’d recover his memories, he didn’t know if he’d ever hear a sudden noise without flinching, if his nights would ever be free of the monsters he carried with him, if he’d ever be able to truly relax around anyone ever again. He would, of course, assist him all he could; he would find ways that would make his life more bearable, but he couldn’t shake the idea that perhaps that most noble of ambitions was just as selfish as might be a desire by Rincewind to end, prematurely, an existence he found intolerable.

At Ponder’s growing silence, Rincewind’s shoulders started to shake. Ponder shuffled next to him and put his arms around the vulnerable wizard, and as Rincewind sobbed into his chest Ponder wept too, overcome by conflicting emotions and the depth of empathy he felt for the man he held in his arms.

After the storm of emotions had blown itself out and the two wizards could think fairly clearly again Rincewind said, “I would like a garden to look after by myself, thank you.” Ponder, slightly taken aback by this, quickly recalled his previous comment and said, “Oh! Good, I’ll go and talk to Modo in the morning.” He hoped this was a good sign, that Rincewind was going to find things to engage in and was less likely to give up, but his fears didn’t leave him.

After a week at UU it was obvious that, although Rincewind made sure to be seen up and about, only using the one stick now, he was not getting nearly enough sleep. His eyes were always incredibly bloodshot and the circles around them were now so dark that he looked like he’d gone three rounds with the Dean. He maintained a relatively cheery persona to stop any concerned enquiries but even the wizards could tell it was all an act for their benefit. If any of them caught him when he thought he was alone they noticed that his shoulders sagged as though he was wearing a lead coat and he moved slowly and deliberately, like a man over twice his age. Nevertheless, in his presence, they played along, not really knowing what else to do.

He could now often be seen in the garden where he was currently in the process of planting hedges around the large plot of land that Modo had delineated for him. Progress was slow due to worsening hand eye co-ordination brought on by sleep deprivation and he often dropped his tools, but he worked with a bloody-minded determination, which both awed and frightened Ponder. 

The problem was that Unseen University was much larger than Bugarup University and Rincewind’s screams were less likely to be heard and, thus, responded to, however reluctantly. Generally, when his nightmares refused to let him sleep he went to the library and read books until morning, then he would return to his room.

Rincewind had declined, as gently but firmly as he could, Ponder’s attempts to move him into his quarters so he could soothe his nightmares, not wanting Ponder to suffer as well, but the situation was fast becoming serious. There was even talk among the senior faculty of sending him to The Lady Sybil Charity Hospital, just ‘til he got better of course. Ponder had raised objections to this course of action, still not entirely convinced that the standard of medicine had improved as much as people said it had and also afraid that Rincewind would interpret hospitalisation as an admission of failure on his part and deepen his depression. Not to mention the lack of freedom that would necessarily result in.

It was around this time that the strange sounds of sawing and hammering were heard in the library during the day, but the wizards dismissed this as unimportant, it was probably one of the Librarian’s personal projects and therefore best not interfered with anyway.

One night when Ponder, unable to sleep himself, wandered across to Rincewind’s room and found rumpled sheets but no Rincewind, naturally he panicked. The, rather grumpy, wizards having been got out of their beds in the middle of the night, had searched all the places Rincewind could usually be found, some had even ventured into the garden with torches, before some bright spark suggested they look in the library. The library was, they knew, dangerously powerful so they knocked gently at the door and, when they got no answer, pushed it open cautiously. They could hear a strange creaking noise coming from behind one of the lesser used bookcases and they approached it warily. Ponder peered round the side of the shelving and gave a huge sigh of relief. Between the bookcases was a bed big enough for a grown man but with runners on the bottom like a cradle. Sitting on a shelf, reading a book with one hand, eating a banana with the other and gently pushing the cradle with a foot was the Librarian. And tucked under blankets in the cradle, sleeping as soundly as a baby, one thumb in his mouth the other arm clutching a teddy bear, was Rincewind. The faces of the other wizards appeared round the bookcase and even they smiled at the scene before them.

UU wizards would never allow themselves to be accused of sentimentality but there was something about that peaceful face that made every man hanker for a vaguely remembered time of childish innocence. Ponder noticed that the teddy Rincewind was holding so tightly belonged to HEX and made a mental note to get him a bear of his own. If that were all it took, it would be a very small price to pay. The Librarian put a finger to his lips and the wizards silently withdrew back to their own beds.


	8. Chapter 8

This new arrangement worked very well but it still took nearly a month before a casual observer wouldn’t notice anything amiss. Rincewind might no longer look like a panda, but he still flinched at any unexpected noises and was sometimes overcome by a strange feeling of dread for seemingly no reason at all, which made his heart pound in his chest and he’d have to stop what he was doing and catch his breath. He was getting used to it though and while he had his garden to delight in; the hedges were even now up to waist height due to the raw magic that infused the soil and he had even managed to plant a few flowers, he would cope with his new understanding of normal, nightmares and all.

At the start of the third month he was getting restless and decided to go for a walk into the city. He told Ponder of this, as he knew the young man was rather protective of him and worried if he looked for him and couldn’t find him. “Do you mind if I come with you, I could do with the exercise?” Ponder asked, carefully phrasing the question so it didn’t sound like he was going because he didn’t think Rincewind could manage on his own.

Indeed what he had said was mostly true. Ponder had spent most of his time trying to put the HEM to rights after the students had used the faculty’s long absence to entertain themselves with lots of frivolous and messy experiments. As a result he too hadn’t had time to leave the university and could do with some fresh air. The fact that he could also use this opportunity to keep an eye on Rincewind was just an added bonus.

“Of course. I’d enjoy your company,” Rincewind replied, secretly pleased. If he was honest with himself he found this new Ankh-Morpork, even just the very little of it he’d seen, more than a bit daunting and although his new found pride would not allow him to ask even Ponder to accompany him, the thought that he wouldn’t have to go out into the city by himself calmed the doubts in his mind.

They set out after lunch, Ponder giving Rincewind a tour of the city. He walked gazing entranced at a place he knew he should already know like the back of his hand but so many things were new. It was a very unnerving feeling. The Broken Drum was now The Mended Drum looking like it had been completely rebuilt several times, there were lots of new Guild buildings he didn’t remember there being before and now the city seemed to work, not in the lawless kind of way he vaguely recalled but in a more ordered way. Ponder had explained a few things before they left, the Watch had been crafted into a force to be reckoned with under Commander Sam Vimes who could even keep the heads of Guilds in check and a man with the unlikely name of Moist Von Lipwig had been put in charge of the Post Office and now that also was up and running again at peak efficiency including new things called stamps. There was also something called the Ankh-Morpork Times, which now kept the ordinary citizen in the street up to date with current affairs.  
As they walked Rincewind’s heightened awareness for things around him caught snippets of conversation most of which were simple human concerns or pieces of gossip; these were comforting in this maelstrom of new experiences as it seemed that even if events changed, people were people were people with much the same concerns no matter what era they happened to live in.

One snippet in particular caught his attention. A young woman and a much taller, broad shouldered man with ginger hair were walking towards them and as they passed Rincewind heard her say “...four shirts I’ve been through in the past three months there must be a better way to fasten the things...” He didn’t want to pry into other people’s business but it intrigued him. Ponder noticed as Rincewind turned his head to watch the two figures.

“That’s Sergeant Angua and Captain Carrot,” informed Ponder in a low voice, “they’re in the Night Watch.” Then, feeling that something else was required he added, “Angua’s a werewolf.” Rincewind just nodded, he got the feeling he would never be surprised by anything ever again. 

For some reason a figure wearing glasses and a very naive grin floated into Rincewind’s memory. He felt he should know who the little man was, but he was quickly distracted by more new sights and his identity slipped out of his grasp. 

They continued walking, with Ponder pointing out landmarks whether Rincewind might remember them from before or not. The Ankh-Morpork Museum and Art Gallery, the Guild of Assassins and next to it the Fools Guild, the Patrician’s Palace, the Opera house and the Dwarf Bread Museum. By the time they returned to the university Rincewind’s head was spinning. Over dinner he was the most animated they had yet seen him, talking at length about the things he had seen like a child that had been taken for a day out to the zoo.  
What were new insights to Rincewind were old hat to the other wizards but they humoured him and listened as attentively as they could until he fell into a contented reverie, processing his new experiences.

That night Rincewind went straight to the library instead of his room knowing that he wouldn’t possibly be able to sleep with the thoughts whirling round in his head. Soon after the success of the Librarian’s cot the Ape had devised a method by which it could be moved on its own so Rincewind could use it without his help. In a strange way the gentle creaking was just as soothing to the Librarian as to the person the device was made for. He presumed it had something to do with tree branches in far away jungles but didn’t really give it a second thought.

Rincewind seemed to have a spring in his step the next morning and went down to his garden even before breakfast. Already there was weeding to be done and if you didn’t get on top of it at the first sign, it could easily take over. From the start, he had taken meticulous instruction from Modo and listened intently to his horticultural wisdom.

When the gong for breakfast sounded, still far too loud despite Ponder’s soundproofing spells, over half the weeds lay in a basket at his side and he was content to leave it there for now, especially since was feeling rather hungry. As he was leaving, his gardening robe brushed against a new bush, which deposited lots of little seeds that clung fast. With a curse, he started picking them off and then stopped. He brought a seed up to his face and examined it. It was a ball comprised of very fine spines. Curiously, he stuck it back onto his robe and pulled it off again, thoughts racing through his brain at frightening speeds. In the back of his mind it occurred to him that this strange property could be very useful. A memory stirred from yesterday’s excursion and fast made connections in his rapidly overheating brain until, with a cry of “Eureka,” which, as his brain skidded to a halt, he thought was rather strange, as he wasn’t even taking a bath, he came to a breathless realization. If you could create a fabric that stuck to other kinds of fabric, you’d have a very easy method of fastening and unfastening garments.

All through breakfast Rincewind seemed to be in a world of his own as he pondered the practicality of his new discovery. He didn’t understand the slightest thing about making fabric but perhaps if he could explain it to someone who did. He was so absorbed he didn’t even notice as he made and ate a round of strawberry jam and anchovy sandwiches and then made another, which he took with him as he made his way to the library to ask the Librarian about cloth-making guilds and artisans. He decided he wouldn’t tell Ponder about this little brainwave; then he could make it a nice surprise.

Archchancellor Ridcully, who was watching him go, shook his head sadly. He knew the signs. Rincewind was obviously going completely Bursar and Ridcully wondered how many more Dried Frog Pills he should order. 

Rincewind spent most of the rest of that day in the Library where, with the help of the Librarian and an iconograph imp with very good eyesight, he drew lots of pictures of how his new invention ought to work; they were no Mona Ogg but they would do to help explain what was needed.


	9. Chapter 9

Rincewind made many excursions into the city in the next couple of weeks. Whenever Ponder asked why or offered to accompany him he politely declined, saying it was to increase his confidence and independence and Ponder seemed content with that explanation, after all, Ponder reasoned, he did seem to be improving. It still wasn’t a good idea to creep up behind him, and nightmare free nights were still few and far between but, with the Librarian’s invaluable help, he could cope with those. So, although Ponder burned with curiosity, he didn’t intrude on Rincewind’s secrets. Someday he would have to broach the subject of using the University’s practice hall with its special magic proofing to try again at recovering his memories but he decided that could wait for the time being, there was no need to rush.

On the Librarian’s recommendation, Rincewind approached a rather keen young man from the street of Cunning Artificers, via the services of a good lawyer in order to protect any patent that might result. Even wizards, who can turn the plaintiff into a toad in the event of a dispute, sometimes find it expedient to employ a lawyer as it makes the outcome in their favour that bit more proper. 

“I can really see the potential in this,” the lad was saying encouragingly, who had become even more keen since he had been assured that he would get 50% of any profits from this new fastening. He leaned over the plans, “but while it would work with most fabrics, to make it most effective a corresponding fabric should be made too, with loops so that the hooks work better.” 

It took several months of tinkering with prototypes and experimental models before they succeeded in creating a garment with this new hook and loop fastening.  
When they were sure that it would work Rincewind went to the Watch’s usual tailor for uniforms and, after carefully explaining the plan and after they had ensured that they would be able to use the new material without guild penalty, he had requested Angua’s measurements.

So, months since she might have vaguely remembered commenting to Carrot about clothes, a package was deposited on Angua’s doorstep with a note. She carefully unwrapped the parcel and, to her surprise, found a couple of shirts inside. Hesitantly at first, despite the package containing the approved marking of the Watch tailors, making sure it didn’t contain any silver she slipped her arms into the sleeves. It looked exactly the same as her other watch shirts but there were no buttons down the front instead there was an odd, new material that seemed to join up all by itself. However when she tried to unfasten it she found that with only a little more effort she was able to separate the material with ease. Only then did she notice the note. It read “I hope this is useful to you, sorry for the presumption.” There was no signature, but the envelope smelt of wizards. Wizards didn’t tend to involve themselves in Watch business but a memory stirred of a strange, very nervous wizard she’d seen about in the city recently with wizard spelt incorrectly on his hat. Whoever the benefactor was, she admitted as she looked at herself in front of the mirror they were a gods’ send. This new, easy open fastening would make for a great saving on new shirts.

On Ponder’s birthday, Rincewind had presented him with a new robe for working in the HEM building. And with it an explanation for his secretiveness and Ponder had been very impressed at his new discovery, especially since soon he would find it would be an outfit that any respectable mad Doctor or Baron would give his, or at least someone else’s, back teeth for. Rincewind had no idea what to call his invention but “Grippo” seemed to be working with others who wanted to utilise this new invention.   
Rincewind found that on Hogswatch, along with Bill Rincewind’s oversized sweater and crate of Roo Beer, he received an extra present with a paw print on the wrapping and a card. Angua had subsequently introduced his new invention to other interested parties like the Alchemists, who found that when you accidentally set this new robe on fire it was much quicker to escape from.

After this relatively brief period of high activity, Rincewind settled into the routine of looking after his garden. He was a very dutiful gardener and even Modo was impressed by the way he carefully cultivated the various young trees and flowers that now bloomed there in abundance and how no matter the weather he could be found making sure nothing went to seed or was choked by weeds. On the occasions that Ponder ventured into Rincewind’s garden, he was very happy to see the contented expression on his face as he tended his plants and often spent many happy hours himself just passing the time of day sitting on the ornamental bench that had been set up in the middle.  
As Ponder thought about Rincewind’s invention and as he watched him about his work or hesitantly, and still only briefly, socialising with his fellow wizards he realized that a side effect of his being always slightly on edge was that he often noticed things that others missed. And that, coupled with a wish to please, which Ponder rather suspected was an unconscious attempt to placate any potential threats, meant that often no sooner had someone asked for something than Rincewind was able to hand it to him.

The wizards themselves considered this ability slightly eerie, but decided not to question it and were simply happy at this unexpected boon, especially since it made their lives even easier.

One of the big things Rincewind noticed once he’d got his garden in order was that quite a few fairly common-place spells required the wizards to climb to the top of the Tower of Art, which, given the girth of the wizards involved, often resulted in them collapsing in a heap at the top. Rincewind also noticed that sometimes, certain senior wizards cheated by casting counterweight spells which flew themselves to the top at the same time as a large lump of masonry was coming down. Rincewind wondered, with the insight of someone who didn’t know the impossible, whether there wasn’t an easier way to bypass all the cheating spells and simply use the same technique to move bodies up and down.

However, it wasn’t until Dick Simnel appeared with his steam locomotive a few years later that Rincewind’s initial ideas for the Tower came to fruition.

Soon after the successful run of Iron Girder to Uberwald and back and while the bridge was being repaired, Rincewind approached Mr Simnel with a proposition for a new application for one of his engines. If a shaft could be built inside the Tower of Art, he said, a platform could be manoeuvred up and down using only steam power and counterweights. This piqued Dick’s interest and he took up Rincewind’s offer to have a look inside the Tower of Art just to see if his plan could be viable. 

Although the engineer had been told something about wizards and the strange dimensions of magical interiors Dick couldn’t help but look rather disappointed as he approached the tower; there was no way anything like what Rincewind was suggesting would work inside such a narrow building. Rincewind could almost hear these thoughts crossing Mr Simnel’s mind and tried his utmost to keep his expression neutral and definitely not let any smugness creep through as he led the engineer through the crude wooden door and into a space that by rights had no business being so large. 

It was very dark inside the tower until Rincewind struck a match and lit several candles arranged in niches in the walls. Dick Simnel looked around him in astonishment. Then he looked up and his jaw dropped. It was a very long way up but it was also an uninterrupted view, the floors having crumbled to dust years ago. Rincewind’s vision was so very clear indeed in Dick’s mind; you could get a moving platform to the top, he just knew it. He also knew that if you could get it to the top of this tower, using similar platforms in other tall buildings, of which there were beginning to be lots due to a lack of width for building in the city, would be a piece of cake.

The engineer took out his tape measure and wrote down several dimensions in his notebook, along with a long list of materials and instructions, with a look of intense concentration on his face, which Rincewind took to be a good sign. “It’ll work,” said Dick eventually, trying not to get too excited at this early stage in case he ran into unexpected problems later, but unable to keep the emotion out of his voice. “It’ll require a very strong material for the cable but I think I can help you there, we’re developing new stronger alloys every day for the railways. I’ll talk to Duke Harry tomorrow about it but I’m sure I can get him to see the practical applications for this new technology.”


	10. Chapter 10

Although buoyed up by Mr. Simnel’s optimism Rincewind knew that his next task would be far harder: he had to convince Archchancellor Ridcully that this going-up-and-down machine would be a good idea. He was aware that this was change and as a rule wizards agreeing to change was as likely as a dead horse winning the races, however Rincewind consoled himself with the recollection that Igors could apparently work wonders these days and only last week he’d read in the Times that a horse that looked like a mix and match of two different thoroughbreds had won the 4:30.

This time he had told Ponder about his new project and the young man was very supportive. Although much of what he did included magic at its heart, he was intrigued by Rincewind’s desire to come up with relatively simple solutions to everyday problems without the use of magic. Magic, although it could get things done very quickly, by its very nature used lots of energy and any side effects had a tendency to be terribly erratic. The senior wizards might have lost their taste for throwing fireballs at each other but laziness meant that they often used simple magic to do such things as open doors or refill glasses and Ponder was a tad worried about the effects of all this, admittedly low level magic, on the University and the magic field of the Disc in general. The magic in the HEM building could be monitored and adjusted but everything else was unchecked and that uncertainty made Ponder nervous.

Rincewind first went to find Ponder who, as usual, was to be found arguing with HEX. “Can you come with me to see the Archchancellor?” he asked, “I need to ask permission to attempt to install the lifting device in the Tower and I think I could do with the moral support."

“Of course. Let me just finish up here.” Ponder gave a few last instructions to HEX, slipped off his stool and accompanied Rincewind down the corridors to the Archchancellor’s study. As they walked, Ponder remarked, “If it comes to it I’m sure I can pull a few strings to make him change his mind.” 

Rincewind looked at him askance but Ponder just tapped the side of his nose conspiratorially and said nothing more. Rincewind didn’t know that Ponder was a majority on the council all by himself by virtue of all the dogsbody jobs he’d been given and Ponder didn’t feel the need to tell him. Anyway, he quite liked Rincewind thinking he had more influence around the University than he let on.

With Ponder’s encouragement, Rincewind knocked on the door, which after a moment, opened by magic and he stepped inside cautiously. Ridcully was busy playing desk snooker and they waited for him to make his shot before Ponder coughed politely to get his attention. “Alright, what can I do for you two,” he said as he put the cue back on the rack and settled himself back behind his desk with a deliberately patient expression. Rincewind stood rooted to the spot, his eyes as big as saucers. He found he suddenly couldn’t speak even though he knew exactly what he wanted to say and his heart pounded in his chest. The rational side of his brain tried to reason with the rest of him; for goodness sake, it was only the Archchancellor, he wouldn’t turn you into anything unpleasant and anyway it was only a request, it wasn’t the end of the world if he said no. His mouth opened and closed a few times but no sound came out.

Noticing the signs, Ponder quickly came to his aid, “Rincewind has an idea for a new invention to make getting to the top of our Tower easier Archchancellor,” he gabbled, “and if I were you I’d give my permission for him to sit down right now, sir.” 

“Yes, yes of course,” said Ridcully, looking concernedly at Rincewind’s rapidly whitening face as Ponder pushed him gently into a chair and fetched him a glass of water.  
“I have invented a k-k-kind of lifting m-mechanism to get to the t-t-top of the T-t-tower of Art without either climbing the stairs or using m-magic,” stammered Rincewind once he’d had a chance to calm down a bit and drained the glass. “It uses m-m-much the same principles as the spells we use to get to the t-t-top but without the need to actually use the spells,” he took a deep breath and tried to get his voice back under his control, “a counterweight is lowered at the same time as the platform goes up to take some of the strain off one of Mr. Simnel’s engines that would be used to power the whole thing,” he came to a faltering halt as he saw Ridcully’s eyes beginning to glaze over and desperately looked to Ponder for assistance.

Taking his cue Ponder added, “this will mean that we will only have to stand on the platform and the engine will lift it up to the top of the tower without any work on our part.” Ponder knew that really they were talking to the wrong person, if they had proposed this machine to practically any other member of the faculty they would have been met with resounding approval, but Ridcully believed in physical exercise and every morning, rain or shine took a run around the university campus before breakfast. Unfortunately, the man before them was the Archchancellor and therefore was the only one, apart from the Patrician, who they were almost certain wouldn’t care one way or the other, from whom they really needed permission.

The way the Archchancellor looked at them over his steepled fingers almost sent Rincewind into another panic attack but he fought to maintain calm. “Some say the Tower of Art may be older than the disc itself I don’t think we should be messing about with it, no one would want a modern eyesore appended to the opera house and that’s much younger,” argued the Archchancellor in a horribly reasonable voice. 

“It won’t affect the view from the top” protested Rincewind, passion for the project momentarily eclipsing his fear of presenting the idea “and anyway some of the money made from this new invention could be used to repair the stairs so those who wanted to could go the long way if they wished.” He spared a hopeful glance at Ponder but Ponder knew that it wouldn’t be quite that easy, indeed the Archchancellor didn’t look convinced. 

“For some of our wizards the only exercise they ever get is climbing up the tower for spell-casting who am I to deny them the chance for healthy physical activity.” He asked, innocently.

Ponder, however, was ready for this one “well they’re not really of any use for the actual spell-casting when they get to the top are they? Anyway, with a bit of renovation, the stairs would still be there so if you wished to put them all to shame by taking the stairs and getting there first you could always do that.” Ponder had learned long ago that the best way round the Archchancellor was flattery and creating chances for him to prove his superiority over other wizards and by now even without using his casting vote Ponder could manipulate him into taking actions that normally he would never take in a million years.

As this new way of putting the lesser wizards in their place seeped into Ridcully’s brain Ponder knew that the project was as good as approved and was barely paying attention as he signed the chit Rincewind had brought with him. He was more focused on nudging a by now clearly dazed Rincewind out of his chair and all but dragging him out of the room before the Archchancellor changed his mind.

Only when they were safely back in Ponder’s study cradling a couple of very stiff drinks did he try to explain what had just happened.  
“Sorry for rather taking over there Rincewind, but I’ve learnt over the years that if you want to get the Archchancellor to agree to things you’ve got to frame it in ways in which it can benefit him personally rather than simply explaining it rationally.” 

Rincewind just stared into his drink with an expression of utter confusion on his face and not for the first time Ponder’s heart went out to the lost looking wizard before him. Just when he thinks he’s got his world figured out, he thought, it goes and springs even more surprises on him and that’s the story of his life. Poor sod. The other wizards were often confused by things, especially his efforts at getting them to understand technical explanations, however it never really bothered them as anything they didn’t understand they simply dismissed out of hand and had usually been forgotten about entirely by the next meal. Rincewind however fought daily to keep a handle on what was going on and each new piece of information took time to be integrated into what he already thought to be true. As a result, he could be very easily bewildered if events happened too fast for him to be able to keep up with them.

“Don’t worry” he said brightly, in an attempt to cheer him up “the Archchancellor approved the plan and Mr. Simnel is a very resourceful man I’m sure he can make it work.”

Rincewind raised his head and gave Ponder a weak smile, he knew he should be very pleased indeed; his proposition had been given the go ahead by the Archchancellor, Dick was even now working on the practicalities of the engineering and he knew he had Ponder’s unfailing support but the stupefying helplessness he had felt when trying to pitch his idea had him severely rattled. Even though over three years had passed since he had woken to find that his mind felt like woodworms had been eating tunnels through it, it seemed that he was still discovering new symptoms to add to his collection, although he took comfort from the fact that with each new difficulty he stumbled upon he found new ways to cope with or overcome them. Nevertheless, the constant struggle was exhausting and just sometimes, when the nightmares were particularly horrifying or the permanence of his condition weighed heavily on him, he briefly wondered whether he might be forgiven for taking the so-called “easy” way out.


	11. Chapter 11

A couple of days later Rincewind went to see Dick at the compound where Iron Girder had again gone back to giving short rides to the paying punters. He found him bent over a table strewn with blueprints and schematics, which Rincewind vaguely recognized as being about his new invention but seemed far more complex than he’d ever imagined. He’d visualised a simple platform and cable to move people up and down the tower, Dick’s schemes seemed to include all sorts of pulleys and safety mechanisms. In the end Rincewind decided that Dick knew what he was doing and resolved not to get involved with the technicalities.

Sensing Rincewind’s presence Dick looked up and his face broke into a broad grin. “I can do it!” he enthused, looking happier than a pig in clover “Harry has made so much so far on the railways that he’s agreed to finance our little venture especially since he can see great potential in installing these “lifts” in other buildings in the city.” Rather like one of his own trains Dick ran out of steam and stumbled to a breathless halt glowing with optimism and raring for a new challenge.

Although rather intimidated by the lad’s boundless enthusiasm Rincewind did his best to take in what Dick was telling him and the two of them spent a very productive afternoon refining the plans and trying any alterations on the, much shorter, platform that Dick had set up in the compound. 

When Rincewind left several hours later he was happy to leave the rest to the young but incredibly talented engineer, who had assured him that the work on the Tower would begin as soon as possible.

In the following weeks, a lot of activity could be seen around the Tower, which soon had fences round it to prevent accidents, as Dick Simnel’s presence around the building work intrigued the Ankh-Morpork citizens eager to be the first to sample any novelty the city could offer. However unlike last time the crowds gradually dispersed since all the work was going on inside the Tower where they couldn’t see any changes and as the work dragged on without so much as a puff of smoke to keep their curiosity piqued the people lost interest. 

Only when the railings came down again did Ankh-Morpork’s fickle populace return to the Tower, grumbling about how it looked no different than before but unwilling to be behind the times if something new had been developed.

To start with, and with the University’s permission, Mr. Simnel had charged for the first rides on the new lift system and many people had accepted, wanting to be able to tell their grandchildren that they had been among the first to use this new technology.

However, when the novelty had worn off somewhat, which took a much shorter time than the railways had due to only being able to go up and down and not anywhere you pleased, the Lift as it had been dubbed was left for the use of tourists who wanted to experience the view from the top of the Tower but had been put off before by the number of stairs and the wizards, who didn’t have to pay anyway by virtue of it being their Tower and them being wizards.

Once again, Rincewind returned to his gardening and Ponder wondered whether this was going to form a pattern of nice quiet routine punctured by bouts of inspiration and feverish activity. Most of him was happy that Rincewind now seemed contented and even, rightfully, proud of his achievements and Ponder was almost eager to see what he would come up with next, however somewhere in the back of his head there was still a niggle of doubt. Whenever he had suggested using UU’s more sophisticated facilities to attempt to recover Rincewind’s memories he had always declined. Whether this was because of fear of what he would find or a wish to simply move on as he had become resigned to never regaining them Ponder didn’t know, both possibilities worried him. But equally he didn’t want to force him to remember and subsequently completely ruin what peace Rincewind had been able to create for himself.

The dilemma was soon taken out of his hands when The Luggage, who had been hiding in a quiet corner of the Library; to be as near its owner as it could, for over three years decided to risk showing itself. It too found Rincewind in the garden and approached him with uncharacteristic caution. Rincewind didn’t notice its approach; absorbed as he was in planting new bulbs, so The Luggage hazarded a, very gentle, nudge. Rincewind jumped and looked about him before clocking the chest, breathing a sigh of relief and going back to his planting. It took a good couple of seconds before his brain registered what he had seen and then he became aware of the sudden insistent pounding of lots of little feet on the rapidly weakening door in his mind, louder than in even his worst nightmares. The magic within him tried to defend him from the attack, which incinerated several of his prize plants, but then, abruptly, the door gave way under the onslaught and a familiar monstrosity on hundreds of little legs invaded his mind followed by images of threat after threat, some of them not even resembling any creature that could ever exist on the Disc. They caught him up in a tornado of claws, tentacles, teeth and a multitude of bladed and projectile weapons. The man who had survived so long by running away from danger suddenly found that there was no-where left to run. His terrified mind saw only one method of escape, built a high strong wall around itself, and curled up in a foetal ball in the middle listening to the bellowing and pounding as the monsters worked tirelessly to break through. Like a puppet with its strings cut his body pitched sideways and lay unmoving on the grass.

This was how Ponder found him when he didn’t see him at lunch and went looking for him out of friendly concern. When he saw the scorch marks that marred the previously pristine garden and The Luggage looking unusually contrite a sensation of cold dread ran down his spine. He shook Rincewind’s shoulder gently but got no response. His breathing was even and his pulse strong and regular but despite by now quite insistent shaking he simply could not be roused.  
Frightened, Ponder quickly collared a few passing students and had them help him carry Rincewind back to his room while fighting the urge to panic every step of the way. When he made sure that Rincewind was safely tucked up in bed, Ponder went to find the Archchancellor. The man may be in turns incurious to the point of indolence and inquisitive enough that he was in very real danger of accidentally blowing up the entire Disc but he was the Archchancellor and that amount of authority made him the kind of man who would know what to do in a crisis and Ponder was damned if this wasn’t a crisis, Rincewind’s body had had an unnatural stillness as it lay there in the bed which Ponder had never seen in anyone who still had a pulse.

Ponder eventually found Ridcully in the grounds practicing his archery by firing arrows at wooden targets strapped to the backs of several unlucky porters. Worried as he was he made the wise move not to approach a man carrying a definitely offensive weapon. There was a thwack and a muffled yelp as an arrow hit its mark and Ponder scurried up to him before he had a chance to reload.

“Archchancellor! It’s Rincewind,” he gasped still a little out of breath from a mixture of fear and panic.

“Yes? What about him?” Ridcully was by now used to Ponder’s tendency to get himself overly exercised over what he considered to be mere trifling matters and so these days he waited ‘til he had heard the whole story before deciding whether or not it was going to be worth his time.

Ponder caught his breath “I found him unconscious in his garden. I couldn’t wake him up!”

“He’s dead?” 

“No, just sort of very deeply asleep.” Ponder knew he’d chosen the wrong words as soon as they’d left his mouth.

“Well, there you then, the poor man must just have been overdoing it, I’m sure he’ll wake up when he’s had a good sleep,” said the Archchancellor, reassuringly, already reaching for another arrow, as far as he was concerned the matter successfully resolved.

Ponder knew that he wouldn’t be able to convince him of his uneasy feelings now, so he made his way back to Rincewind’s room and tried to convince himself that the Archchancellor was right and he was worrying over nothing. However some instinct told him that Rincewind might never wake up from this “sleep”, that he’d retreated somewhere no one else could go and that somehow the Luggage’s reappearance was the catalyst for his alarmingly abrupt deterioration.

Rincewind remained unconscious throughout the rest of that week by which point even the Archchancellor was growing concerned and Doughnut Jimmy was summoned, but even his rather idiosyncratic diagnosis methods didn’t reveal any cause for Rincewind’s current condition. News of which soon reached the City Watch, and, as they had a tendency to be generous to those who had helped their members out in the past, had subtly suggested to Ponder that he call on Dr Lawn for a second opinion, bills to be picked up by Sir Samuel Vimes which he did, if anything could be done to help his friend he himself would gladly have paid any fee they cared to name.

Ponder was encouraged when Dr Lawn examined his patient with much the same techniques and expertise as the doctor had in XXXX but while he could suggest a newly developed means for delivering nutrients to patients in conditions like this that they might live long enough to come round on their own, he said that nothing more could be done other than wait and hope for some spontaneous recovery which might never happen.

Meanwhile in the self-made prison in his mind, Rincewind heard every word and felt even worse for once again becoming a burden to his friend but he simply couldn’t face so many enemies at once.


	12. Chapter 12

Ponder once again took on the job of looking after Rincewind unflinchingly. Even if the hope of recovery were very small or even if all that he was doing was easing the body’s suffering until he passed away Ponder would do what he could, he owed it to his friend.

Life in the rest of the University went on largely undisturbed; they might go awkwardly quiet when they saw Ponder or be a bit less likely to assign him any new odd jobs but they soon had problems of their own.

A new magical phenomenon had been sighted travelling seemingly with purpose across the Disc heading straight for Ankh-Morpork. And then there were the reports of sudden madness in the towns and villages it passed through; paranoia, intense fear, violence.

The clacksmen saw it first as it made its way above the Ankh and lots of citizens crowded the streets to watch it as it settled over the top of the Tower of Art. It looked like a huge cloud flashing red and blue and octarine and as far as the people of Ankh-Morpork were concerned made for a great impromptu fireworks display.

Wizards immediately began taking thaumic measurements and desperately tried to ascertain whether the strange cloud could be at all dangerous, but none of their results returned any alarming findings and they concluded that while the phenomenon was very strange it posed no threat to Ankh-Morpork and the strange epidemics in the surrounding areas were simply a coincidence, which was a great relief to them as it meant that they wouldn’t be expected to come up with a plan for getting rid of it. And if the Archchancellor found his patience wearing a bit thinner than usual or his frustration getting the better of him more often he put it down to the cretins he had to work with and dismissed it.

The next day the Watch found themselves rather busier than usual as several fights broke out around the city but Sam Vimes wasn’t unduly worried as it was a match day and “high spirits” were inevitable.

The day after that the Patrician snapped his pencil while trying to complete the Times crossword but Drumknott reasoned that it was a particularly difficult one and he only completed it a couple of seconds slower than usual.

As the week wore on the wizards found themselves getting even more fractious than usual and certain rumours about a madness plague began circulating, only half jokingly, among some of the more impressionable cheeky young students.

At the start of the second week there were a large number of absences from workplaces across the city severely reducing production and Vetinari ordered an investigation to find out the cause. No-one could give a rational reason and all the truants returned to work the next day. No further action was taken but Vetinari made sure to keep a much closer watch on anything out of the ordinary in his city.

Over the next few weeks there continued to be absences as, perfectly sane citizens, developed intense fears of neighbourhoods they had lived in all their lives and the crime rate went up drastically as those who did venture out went armed against any potential attacker. The people, who generally had suspicion as their default position, were starting to get downright paranoid and it increasingly seemed that the catastrophe that had befallen the towns and villages in the surrounding areas was now affecting Ankh-Morpork itself.  
But it wasn’t until an “accident” occurred in the Watch’s cells one night and Commander Vimes put himself on sick leave until further notice that Vetinari put the entire city under quarantine and issued a curfew.

All of Ponder’s fears were reserved for the man who lay so still in his bed that he could have been carved of marble. Frequently he would forget to eat as he kept his vigil at Rincewind’s bedside and a few of his students had taken to bringing him food and trying to persuade him to sleep in his own room rather than in his chair. In the end they gave up and carried a low camping bed into Rincewind’s room and Ponder conceded to sleep there so that if Rincewind recovered he would be there to provide stability and reassurance.  
With food and goods no longer coming into or going out of the city the rich quickly bought up what food there was despite the Watch’s best efforts to clamp down on the panic buying and attempting to organise a form of rationing. But fear of starvation fuelled the people’s worst inclinations and there were frequent riots over the scarce resources with many killed either in the fighting or simply by being trampled underfoot. 

Lots of groups soon found themselves being blamed for the perceived epidemic and buildings all over the city were torched by angry and fearful citizenry as old prejudices that had seemed long settled were suddenly reignited, little knowing that their actions were causing the cloud of magic on the top of the tower to get bigger and bigger, as it fed on the fear and anger of the populace beneath.

Yet the being on the tower could sense a more concentrated source of fear close at hand, it could taste it but it seemed to be just out of its grasp and while the combined emotions of Ankh-Morpork went a long way to satiate its hunger, what it craved was this choicer morsel. It put out psychic feelers and tried to tease it out into the open.

The wizards had barricaded themselves into the University to defend themselves against the mobs outside who felt that they should be doing something to counter this crisis. They, however, had then further barricaded themselves into their rooms to protect themselves from each other; it may have been many years since dead men’s pointy shoes had been the optimum means of progress through the University but if one of the others had caught the disease then, well, madness could make anyone capable of anything. The Dean was certainly very ambitious...

Inside Rincewind’s room, the door barricaded by a heavy wardrobe, Ponder sat asleep in his chair, his head drooped against his chest. Worry had carved deep grooves across his brow and his robe hung loosely on his shoulders.

In the darkness of Rincewind’s mind, a pale shape floated through his defences. He gave a last whimper, threw his hands over his head and waited for oblivion. And waited a bit more. Hesitantly he removed his hands and looked up, surprise making him momentarily forget the monsters that still pounded away outside. The strange shade simply floated in the air neither attacking him nor coming to his aid. Then sounds started issuing from it: angry shouts, screams, the flicker of flames. He felt the terror and the suspicion and the grief and Rincewind knew that these came from the real world outside. Ankh-Morpork. His home.

As he listened to the maddened cries growing louder he noticed that the cloud grew fatter with each new voice, each new person the suffering touched was food to whatever had the city in its thrall. A sudden surge of anger coursed through him. How dare it! This was his home, the only place he ever thought of running to. His only safe place on the entire Disc. An image of Ponder floated before him, asleep with dark circles under his eyes and another wave of rage gave him a courage he had never felt before. “I have a friend,” he said aloud, getting up from the floor and facing the entity. “I will protect my friend.” His whole body was vibrating now, he looked back on the memories he had locked away and didn’t feel fear just a deep-seated feeling of injustice. The universe had no right to treat him like that; he had never wanted to be a hero, all he wanted was a nice quiet life stacking books. He had even achieved his ambition for a few short years just tending his beloved garden but oh-no something had to come along and spoil it. Well all right, he would save his home, but not because it played a greater part in Fate’s long-term plans or because the Lady engineered it but because he wanted to. Because it was his home and worth saving and because people were suffering. And although most of the people he met wanted to kill him, some of them were his friends and he wouldn’t stand by while his friends suffered.

With newfound determination, he broke through his wall and the monstrosities that previously sensed victory dissolved into nothingness as the light that suddenly radiated from him hit them.


	13. Chapter 13

In his room, Rincewind opened his eyes, took in the barricaded door and gazed blearily at the young wizard fast asleep in the chair beside him. He removed the strange tube attached to him and carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed making sure not to wake Ponder. Powered by sheer indignation he easily moved the wardrobe by magic, strode from the room and made for the Tower of Art. Behind him, Ponder stirred and woke to find the bed empty and that the wardrobe had been moved. He started down the corridor at a run after Rincewind.

When Rincewind got to the base of the Tower, he operated the lift and quickly reached the top where he stepped into a dense white mist. The entity was all around him and not just the projection that had entered his mind but the real thing; it was much more powerful. Rincewind could feel the monsters pressing in again as his resolve weakened and he fell to his knees. But then through the choking fog came a shape on lots of little legs and this time Rincewind knew it for what it was, it may be unusually violent, it may have dragged him into more and more dangerous situations but it was designed to protect its master and as his memories threatened to overwhelm him again, he recalled that it had. As he drew strength from this realisation, the magic he had only relatively recently acquired and never learned to control leapt from his fingers and another figure came stumbling through the haze. It was a little fellow wearing the ornate robes of the Agatean Empire, a pair of spectacles and a very confused expression. Twoflower.

“Rincewind? Is that you?” he asked, peering through the mist. Another flash of octarine and an old man in a leather loincloth joined him. He caught sight of Twoflower. “What the hell is this, I was just looking forward to my tea.”

“It’s Rincewind! I think he needs our help,” replied Twoflower who was looking with concern at the kneeling figure.

Twoflower went to him and put his hand gingerly on his shoulder. Rincewind’s hand shot up and grabbed his wrist in a vice like grip. A clear bubble rose in the midst of the cloud and images passed through it like a crystal ball, the fire at the broken drum, the talking trees, the flight on the standing stone, the fight at wyrmberg and the dragon escape, being swept over the edge of the world. Rincewind reached out his other hand and Cohen the barbarian took it, he knew a battle against the odds when he saw one and he would always help out friends in need, even weasels like Rincewind. More images flashed across the globe: being chased by Agatean guards, leading the Red Army, reading the Octavo, running through hell, defeating the Sorcerer. He could feel the entity weakening, overloaded by the sheer amount of terror that was flowing out of him. But it still wasn’t enough, Rincewind let go of his friends’ hands and dropped on all fours unwilling and unable to experience the full force of those memories. A fourth shape came out of the mist, a skinny wizard in a green robe too big for him. Without hesitation Ponder knelt down beside him and took his hands in both his own. Rincewind looked into Ponder’s worried eyes and drew strength from his presence. Aware that if he wanted to protect his friend he had to see this thing through to the finish he nodded, getting shakily again to his feet.  
“Get back!” he implored hoarsely, and the four onlookers retreated to the stairs. Then he threw back his head, letting out an agonised scream so loud that even Cohen clapped his hands to his ears. Purple and octarine fire burst from his outstretched hands and the globe grew rapidly in size and intensity. Across its surface ran and slithered a multitude of creatures too hideous to name, creatures that forever sought a means to cross from the Dungeon Dimensions to the material plane and wreak chaos and destruction throughout the multiverse. Rincewind’s scream died in his throat and his legs crumpled underneath him but his scream was now echoed by one from the creature in the cloud, the extent of terror that Rincewind had experienced in his life was too much even for its vast appetites and the emotions that once had sustained it were now tearing it apart.

All across the city people were slowly coming to their senses as the creature’s hold over them lessened. Some even ventured outside to watch the action on top of the Tower.

Inside the University wizards emerged from barricaded rooms and, aware that one of their own was in danger and more importantly was winning, rushed to join in the battle.

With one final shriek, the cloud dissipated entirely leaving the wizard, barbarian and former tourist turned Grand Vizier feeling rather disorientated. Then as the world came back into focus, they remembered Rincewind.

He lay where he had fallen, motionless now on the flagstones, slowly dampening in the rain. Ponder hurried to him, tears already blinding his eyes, and cradled his head in his lap. Rincewind opened his eyes and gave Ponder a weak smile.

“I’m not afraid anymore,” he said simply. “I saved the Disc,” Ponder was nodding emphatically. 

“I played midwife to lots of baby Discworlds. I defeated a Sorcerer with a half brick in a sock,” his voice was very croaky but he was almost laughing now, “I escaped the Dungeon Dimensions. I helped to bring peace to the Counterweight Continent and rain to XXXX. I have seen almost the entire Disc and I was too busy running away to really notice any of it, but now that I can look back on it without the memory of the fear, I realize now that my personal motives didn’t matter. I may not have been allowed to have the boring life I wanted. I maybe wasn’t a hero, or even a wizard, in the conventional sense of the word, but I have brought about a lot of good to the world in my own way.”

Twoflower and Cohen approached hesitantly and knelt on either side of the clearly dying wizard. He held out a hand to Twoflower and he took it in both of his. “Don’t you lose your happy go lucky optimistic take on life, you hear,” Rincewind told him “there needs to be some people who aren’t cynical bastards like me to try to change things for the better. Not for ideologies or organised groups, just ordinary people who can see how to make the lives of other ordinary people easier.”

Twoflower nodded, for once unable to speak.

Rincewind turned to Cohen. “It’s been a privilege to know you, Cohen. You’re everything my grandfather told me you were and more.”

Cohen was unaccustomed to displays of heartfelt emotion that weren’t berserker rage and was rather at a loss for what to say. He looked down, embarrassed for a while then decided, what the hell, it may not do his barbarian street cred any good but some things had to be said. He patted Rincewind’s other hand. “You know, I was wrong about you,” he said quietly. “You’re not a weasel. You didn’t leave your friends or even sometimes technically your enemies in the lurch even if it went against your better judgement, maybe that is far harder than fearlessly storming castles and rescuing young maidens from towers. It has been my pleasure to know you Great Wizzard.”

Rincewind gave Cohen’s hand a squeeze to let him know that he understood the gravity of what had just been said and his breath hitched in his chest. It wouldn’t be long now and his eyes found Ponder’s. He smiled up at him and the tears that Ponder had been holding back spilled over and ran down his cheeks, dripping onto Rincewind’s head like the rain that continued to fall as if the whole Disc was mourning Rincewind’s passing.

Cohen and Twoflower, who gave Rincewind’s hand a final squeeze, backed away, sensing that they were about to intrude on something rather more intimate, and joined the wizards that were now watching around the edges of the tower.

“I don’t want you to go,” said Ponder through the tears streaming down his face. 

Rincewind reached up and wiped the tears from his cheeks. “Thank you Ponder,” he managed, utterly unable to adequately put his gratitude into words but hoping that the young man would understand nonetheless, “thank you for everything.” As he gazed up for the last time into a night full of familiar stars completely at peace for the first time in his life, his attention was caught by a strange butterfly with impossibly complicated patterns on its wings as it floated down on a slight breeze and settled gently on his brow where it left a tender butterfly kiss. And as the last breath left his body and his eyes darkened, he could have sworn he heard a lady’s voice whisper “thank you.”

Death, who had been keeping a respectful distance, offered his skeletal hand to Rincewind and helped him out of his body. “THERE NOW, THAT WASN’T SO BAD, WAS IT?” Then, thinking about the implications of what he had just said and on a whim, Death bowed low to his most worthy opponent. Rincewind smiled but said nothing, only nodding his head in acknowledgement as he faded away.


	14. Chapter 14

Ponder let his tears fall unashamedly now as he rocked Rincewind’s limp body in his arms. The small crowd of wizards silently watching removed their hats in respect; while Rincewind had always been considered something of a coward even by himself, after what they had just witnessed perhaps he had been misjudged by everyone.

The Archchancellor stepped forward and coughed awkwardly, but it was a few minutes before Ponder felt able to lay Rincewind down. He gently closed the now sightless eyes and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead then stood and faced the assembled wizards.

"He should be buried in his garden; under the big tree in the middle.” Ridcully couldn’t meet his eyes but simply nodded, no one was going to deny him anything right now and anyway he was the closest thing Rincewind had to next of kin, it felt right for him to organise the funeral arrangements.

As always, the city picked itself up and gradually set to repairing the damage. There had been many injuries and fatalities during the crisis but Ponder made sure it was known who had saved them from further disaster, it seemed the least he could do for a man who in life had never been granted the praise and recognition he deserved. As a result, Rincewind’s funeral gathered a larger crowd than would be expected for any other wizard, even for an Archchancellor. Many of them were ordinary citizens who had seen the battle on the Tower and wished to pay their respects to their saviour. Even the Patrician was among the congregation at the temple of Small Gods before the solemn procession made its way up to the University and the freshly dug grave in the garden blooming with all of Rincewind’s favourite flowers.

Soon though the others peeled away to the banquet the wizards had put on in the Great Hall until only Ponder, Twoflower, Cohen, The Librarian and Modo were left at the graveside. The citizens of Ankh-Morpork would quickly forget the recent catastrophe as they always did when ordinary concerns reared their heads again and Rincewind’s sacrifice would fade in their memories, so then and there Ponder formulated the idea to, for once, use his influence over the council of wizards to have them agree to a small monument to sanctify his memory and institute a new tradition; that the most courageous student over the year be given the Rincewind Award Of Bravery. As the plan crossed through his mind he allowed himself a small, sad smile, he was sure that Rincewind would appreciate the irony.

And in the months and years afterwards Modo always made sure to pay special attention to Rincewind’s parcel of land and when he retired made sure his replacement continued his devotions although he never gave any explanation for the significance.

Although, it was found forever afterwards that even if subsequent gardeners, through laziness or bad weather neglected UU’s grounds and regardless of the season, by some magical phenomenon no one could quite explain, the plot that had been Rincewind’s always stayed lush with flowers and free of thorns and brambles. And many students seeking solitude there, spent many a contented hour just sitting on the bench before the old tree just admiring the nature around them with no knowledge of the man who had cultivated it.

But maybe, for a man who had sought such peace all his life, that was legacy enough.


End file.
